I worked hard in the garden today. The weeds around my raised beds were out of control and a renegade band of evil biting ants made tending the crops a chore. I decided to outsmart both obstacles by laying down weed cloth and covering it with dirt. Aha! It may just work!
Since I am meticulous about the garden, it took hours. First, I had a pad of paper, a pen, and a few ideas. This blossomed into an hour on the computer and then a trip to the Kmart garden center. I found lots of options (mulch, top soil or bark) at every price point. I filled my trusty vehicle with mulch and weed cloth and got to work. Being an algebraic infant made things a bit tense, but I finally figured out exactly how much cloth to put where and how to evenly distribute the mulch as to not require another trip to the store.
I had lots of time to reflect while hand spreading the mulch and I kept thinking of my dad and his gardens; how he could tell me everything there is to know about this particular plant or that, how much and when to water, and what to plant where. He always had a diagram! I was surprised by the research he did when he was truly interested in something; many more hours were spent finding out all the details of a project than the amount of time it took to actually do it. It used to drive me nuts how he'd map out a plan when anyone else would just jump in and do it.
As I checked my diagram, it began to dawn on me that I might be a little like him. This realization didn't affect me like when I think "Oh, God, I've become my mother!". Instead, I took my ice water to a garden chair, sat down, and surveyed my hard work. I smiled as I thought how much I enjoyed all of my research, and how having a plan can make things a lot easier. Sometimes, Dad, you are right. Thanks.